


If you can summon the strength, tow me

by hazyamethyst



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Indie Music RPF, Last Shadow Puppets, Milex - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, M/M, blame the cookie, brace yourselves!!, miles is a rockstar though, or not?, rating may change as the story develops, there's going to be some real drama in this, we'll see hehe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazyamethyst/pseuds/hazyamethyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the fear of retirement had definitely settled in him, Alex thought he knew himself inside out. Now he's not so sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HI! So, um, yea, I CAN'T EVER BRING MYSELF TO WRITE A NICE DESCRIPTION. Okay, good, so this was heavily inspired by that one-shot I wrote some months ago called 'Tiny dancer'. This can perfectly be a continuation of it but, seeing as that one had a pretty solid end, I decided to leave it alone and publish this as a separate story.  
> Also, prettyvisitorsinthebakery first put the idea into my head to turn the little thing into a proper story so thank you Dee, it was a needed push:))) Enjoy everyone!!! xx

Alex was soft- and flexible, and malleable, and he loved to think of his body as the definition of liberty. He felt he could do just about anything: every existing step, posture, jump- _he could_. And it felt liberating and overwhelming all at once. That notion of no limits inebriated him more than any alcohol beverage ever could.  
But that softness had its downside too: it reached his very core. Alex took every snigger, murmured comment and nasty glare to heart, even though he did figure that his peers most probably did it out of envy or jealousy. Being the lead male dancer for five years was an achievement only a select group of people could lay their hands on, and the rest was left to itch for it in desperation- the youngest being the worst of them all.  
It was a matter of age really, a race against time. Every single day was a year in a ballet’s dancer life. Growing old was saying goodbye, and no one ever seemed truly ready to accept their time was up and swallow that bitter pill. Rarely did someone important take a step aside, the majority of the figures fought tooth and nail for their podiums until one doomed day the choreographer came along with some nice-sounding pretext studied word by word and only then it was over for good. Puff. Vanished. Gone. Old and useless. Humiliated by those who used to chant and clap out in the wings. Forgotten the moves, remembered the name- if you were lucky.  
At twenty-nine, still, Alex did not see himself graciously announcing his retirement or anything of the kind. He loved dancing and felt he had yet more to give.  
  
“Was it that bad, my brisé?”

Back to reality, Alex jumped a little at the birdy tone that came through his ears. It was far from the first time Alexa had somehow popped up in the men’s changing room yet he kept getting startled every time. As for the other men, they appeared to be too self-absorbed and narcissist to take their eyes off the mirrors, an observation that made Alex seriously consider whether they had ever really taken notice of the female intruder sitting casually on the wooden bench.  
  
His only real friend here.  
  
Hastily pulling up his jeans, Alex turned round and answered sweetly, “ ‘f course not! I think you just did the sequence too fast and, you know, Jamie isn’t exactly fond of tha’. Slow down maybe?”  
  
“But...why?! It’s not my fucking problem if they can’t keep up. The girls...oh Al you complain on and on about these wanna-be preppy guys but at least they’ve got energy. Even if it’s just a mean for them to shadow each other and keep the competition going, I swear, it’s so much better than the stupid doll girls. They are static! Lethargic! I didn’t study twenty years to be a pretty statue, I wanna _dance_.”

“You do Lex, and perfectly so. I wish I could do something 'bout the groups we’re put in but hey, on the bright side, we’re paired together this season, eh? How’s tha’? I know ya were falling over yourself to be leading with me.”

“Quit it”

“The Lexies” Alex grinned at her and slipped into his coat, slamming the lockers’ door for emphasis.

“Look, they’re bruised again.” Alexa sighed and held her wrists up to his friend. To hell with the lighthearted atmosphere he had tried to create. By norm, Alex dreaded the word ‘bruised’ coming out of her mouth, but the presence of ‘again’ made it all the more unbearable. Looking wasn’t necessary still he did it out of courtesy?, gallantry?, friendliness?, supportiveness? Just like he’d pictured in his mind, it was. Irregular bluish and red spots covered her baby-like skin from the heel of her palm all the way round to the ulnar styloid process, like some spooky bracelet of sorts. It was quite awful really, and the utter disgust Alex felt deep in his gut didn’t go lost on her friend as he spat furious:  
“I promise you I’ll talk to ‘im tomorrow, okay?” He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “This shit can’t go on, yea? Matter of fact, it won’t”

\--------

  
Miles eyed his boyfriend cooking breakfast and smiled. Clad in a pink silky bathrobe he stood there, barefoot, humming a catchy melody, and shaking around that long wet hair that sent flying numerous little drops of water. Alex could never bring himself to dry it properly, it seemed, and so he was always catching colds. Taking the worried, ever-present mother role, Miles went off to retrieve a clean towel and back to approach his favourite cook.  
  
“Morning baby” He kissed Alex’s cheek and trapped his dripping curls in the pristine towel.  
  
“M'cooking some waffles” Alex giggled and threw his hair back, welcoming Miles squeezing motions.  
  
“I see,” He wrung the towel around Alex’s head and went to sit on a chair. “domestic, pretty, and multiply talented… remind me how is it that you’re legally single yet?”

Alex rolled his eyes though Miles couldn’t see him.  
  
“We’ve gone over it far too many times, Mi. Stop asking questions you already know the answer to, alright? Now please eat and settle that noisy stomach. It’s so annoying!” He put down the big round plate in front of his boyfriend and sat beside, downing the last of his grapefruit juice and picking some slim crackers Miles positively detested.  
  
His body was a dream, but he did eat like a bird at times.  
Eying his profile, Miles’ still sleepy eyes got lost in those curvy long lashes that surely already had mascara on, and that sight alone was enough to make his morning trivial thoughts come to an abrupt halt.

_Girly_

Although Alex had always had a bit of a feminine edge to his character, ballet had certainly let it nurture. Weekly shavings, manicures, pedicures along with daily deep tissue massages and the compulsory make up left Alex mild and sweet, wanting to just be hugged and pampered with caresses, thoughtful compliments and kisses.

And Miles always complied.

But he sometimes wondered. Would Alex stay the same once his professional career was over and the overwhelming pressure to be ‘the closest to perfection’ subsided? Would he revert back to that cocky kid that wanted to play lead guitar in his band? The one that wouldn’t think twice when he asked him out to dinner, not a bit worried about his shape; the one that would actually stay by his side in bed and not wake up every two hours to practice some little steps he knows by heart. The carefreeness, that he missed in Al. The spontaneous ‘I love you’s and pecks and inside little jokes.

  
Miles tried his best to keep the romance going, but it was starting to feel more and more one-sided as time passed. They kissed, they teased each other, they fucked, but they barely talked of things other than food, weather or the rather bothersome neighbours. Actually, what they did was _chat_. Casual, prosaic, shallow _chat._ And to make matters worse, Alex downright dismissed his mention of a possible future wedding. Coldly, like the mention of it was terribly annoying. Gone were the blinking eyes, the nervous giggles, and the blushing. Now he commanded Miles to drop it, because his answer wouldn’t change. He’s made up his mind about it. Alex is definite about his priorities and that means ballet tops Miles any day now.  
  
Certainly, Alex had changed an awful lot- and kept on doing so. By contrast, Miles was stuck. He felt the same as he did yesterday, last week, the last years.

It was like each of them were in different dimensions really. The opposite stages of a romantic relationship: Miles the love-struck idiot; Alex the dismissive, bored-of-it-all partner.

An appalling notion for a sunny Tuesday morning, no doubt.

The waffles went acrid in Miles’ mouth and he had to look away. Alex felt Miles’ electric stare on him but decided to ignore it. He was used to the tendency his boyfriend had to get pensive in the morning and, from his personal experiences, he knew that it was better to just let him be. As much as Alex loved Miles’ naturally croaky voice, he felt could spare the babbling today- or save it for later, perhaps.

As for now, he had places to be.

Jamie’s office to be exact, before anyone arrived.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jamie climbed onto the window seat of his bedroom and struggled to make himself comfortable amongst the round downy cushions. Feeling adventurous, he stretched one leg along the lacquered wood and left the other dangling off the side. He felt the tip of his toes brushing against the fleecy carpet and the burning that slowly started to spread down his inner thigh. He felt rusted, a bodily resemblance of the chains holding swings in the abandoned parks: no longer brilliant, creaky and barely doing their job anymore. Where the hell had his flexibility gone? Jamie winced and closed his eyes, resting his head on the hard frame as he took some deep steadying breaths. While it’s true that he’d never handled pain particularly well, he too systematically refused to let it be an obstacle in his way. Whatever that would be now. The less he thought about the future, the better.

Little by little, his side turned cold and damp as his body took support on the foggy window. A welcoming contrast that lulled him into sleep.

\--------

Alex arrived at the academy one hour early. Like New York, it was just waking up, and he couldn’t help but yawn at the immaculate silence- the urge to go back to bed tackling him repeatedly by then. Walking around he found out the hallways were empty, save for the cleaning staff; the lights were dimmed and the central heating was most likely off. He decided then to trot up the stairs to Jamie’s office to try and warm up. Six floors that is. Great, he needed to feel blood pumping madly through his veins, to beat the sluggishness and get in the mood to confront Jamie. Bold, defiant, confident and… well, hopping two steps at a time might have been an excess, seeing as Alex could barely catch a breath in the end. Only three steps away from his goal he stopped and bent over, hands clutched firmly to the cold golden rail as he tried to calm down by way of letting some burning coughs out.

On his way to get a shower was Jamie when he spotted the source of the strange barks. A little smile crossed his face as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes. _Alex Turner._ Silently clicking the door shut behind him he stood there, giving that gracious body a thorough once-over. A feast for the eyes, Jamie slowly took the sight in: his short but toned legs, his round bum, his slender yet strong arms, his sculpted back, his razor-sharp profile, his hollow cheeks that got pinker by the second. Admittedly, Jamie could have gone back to fetch him a glass of water, but then again, it was _the_ perfect chance to lust over the lad without him noticing it.  
After all, Alex’s body was a wonder to Jamie’s roving eyes.

 _The subtle curves, his favourite enigma._  
  
Developed muscles gave his petite body delicate, proportionate and symmetrical _curves_. Even in that tense position he was in, Alex had ‘ballet’ written all over him: the arched feet spread apart, the gum-like arms draping loosely, the ramrod straight back. A shiver shook Jamie inside out and he knew he had to _stop_.

“Alex!” He greeted with a wide grin. Letting a soft ‘oh’ out, Alex stepped back in surprise and would have probably fallen over if Jaime weren’t holding him by the hips.

“You okay?”

“M’fine, thank you Jamie.” Absent brown eyes shifted to the tanned hands gripping firmly his warm flesh and kindly pushed them off. His balance needed no correcting, he knew. “I came here to talk with you, _director Cookie_ ” The formalities were always hard on Alex’s unruly tongue.

“I see,” Jamie arched a brow, particularly amused at how flustered Alex looked. Up till now, he would catch himself wondering in between rehearsals whether the lad experienced any emotion at all. When dancing he was eerily calculating, cool and quiet. A real work of art, but hardly human. Jamie barely recognised his soft, hushed voice stringing sentences together. It suited him well.

Really well, actually.  
  
“I’m listening, Alex.”

“Yes. I…um…could we move?” Alex ran a hand through his now ruffled hair and signaled to the spacious office mere yards away. He could use some sitting, the heavy overcoat was starting to asphyxiate him.

“Ehhh I’m on me way to take a shower so…what’s got ye so worked up? Go on, you can tell me now, aye?” Jamie prodded and Alex’s face fell. The man was all too close for Alex’s like and the spark in those blue watery eyes staring right into his have somehow managed put out the inner fire that fed his fury. Alex felt horribly intimidated and at a loss of a words. His mind was temporarily free from the images of Alexa’s wrists and instead filled with concerns about the heat he felt expanding through his body and how he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze off Jamie’s ruddy face quick enough.  
Or stop playing that thick accent on repeat in his dozy mind.

“It’s nowt” Alex mumbled low, timidly breaking the awkward silence and looking away at last. He scampered away downstairs, perplexed but not once looking back. He commanded himself not to catch another glimpse of the blond man. He felt weird and disappointed at himself.

What was all that about? He’d just broken a promise to her best friend and he wasn’t even sure why. Was he afraid? Had he gone so gay as to not be able to stand up to men? Jamie was maybe an inch taller and roughly his same age. Muscular frame, dreamy light-blue eyes, shiny golden locks... not the exact type to run and hide from. He had quite a temper though, and it showed alright when he pulled dancers around trying to correct their ‘imprecise’ movements. But it died at that. Again, Alex couldn’t find any feasible explanation to account for his stupid backing away.

Or didn’t want to.

\----------------------------

  
_Click._

Miles didn’t know how else to put it.  
Alex and him clicked _.  
_ Simple as that.

It hadn’t been a first sight thing though. By looks, Miles had thought of Alex as the proper womanizer prick and, consequently, was quite taken aback when the shorty boy nailed every riff he played at the audition. It got on Miles’ nerves, how Alex made his own songs seem overly simple to play: not looking to the fretboard once, the boy preferred instead to steal many glances at the few birds that gathered around. And that’s how it all began actually: with dry skill inquires flowing out of Miles’ mouth and elusive, lengthy and rather off-topic answers from Alex’s. It would take Miles a whole year then to catch on Alex’s personal jargon and the intricate underlying metaphors he periodically polished his speech with.  
But the point is that they clicked. They were Northerners in London and they could only resist that magnetic pull for so long. They bumped into each other soon enough at pubs, and concerts and private parties- where pints of ale slowly worked their magic in their systems and bonded the two through low slurs, clumsiness and shared secrets. From then on, they were hard to separate. Even when hanging out with their groups of friends the pair ended up tangled in their shared musings in some faraway corner that allowed for no personal space.  
And it was okay.  
‘Alex’ eventually became ‘Al’, hugs embraces and mouths stopped babbling and collided for good. Shy, sloppy, short-lived kisses became longer and determined just in time to match Alex’s change of heart. A forgotten passion woke up in him and so to France he went to pursue his childhood dream of being a ballet dancer. Miles happily followed, not giving a good damn about not being familiar with the language or the crummy apartment they would live in. It was them alone for some good eight months, and in his mind, Miles remembers it like a honeymoon of sorts.

_It was sweet._

Alex was sweet. A bouncing lump of sugar if Miles had ever seen one. Those chocolate eyes seemed to melt from shining so much. Every day there was a reason to celebrate. He had been ascended, he’d be performing in the afternoon show, he’d be teaching beginners… Overall, Alex was a success and Miles heart swelled with pride, reverence and devotion. So many were the songs he composed for Alex, there came a time he’d hide the music sheets embarrassed by his writing incontinence- and the most dynamic inspirations that fueled it. Alex helped Miles grow as an artist, his vast literary knowledge fascinating Miles and encouraging him to approach writing differently, to seek his own real style. That, obviously, would take some time and it soon had to be put off when the touring season began. Drastic as it was to leave his lover behind, Miles found his way around the change. Skype and social media, a new-found religion to the tall brunet, made things better if not great. Virtual Alex on a screen was better that no Alex at all and the aching physical demands turned out to be mostly mitigated by palliatives the inventive couple periodically came up with.  
  
Life eventually took Alex to New York and Miles followed suit once more. A brand new lavish apartment was the biggest change one year; the following, the successes of them both: Alex became a lead dancer at a well-known American ballet company and Miles grew obscenely famous- and wealthy. A lucky streak?  
Miles likes to think of the platinum albums as public yet subtle declarations of love. To Alex. Hidden under ‘she’s and ‘her’s so it’s their own precious secret, it was all about _him_. Alex: the flawless ballet dancer, the symbolism enthusiast, the slow fiery snogger.

_Alex. Alex. Alex._

All the warm memories flooded his brain. Unexpectedly, they just kept coming back to Miles. Dozens. Like flashes, they dazzled and disoriented him the more they prolonged. And they wore him down too. He felt stagnant and idealess, as if there were some secret going on and he wasn’t being let in on it. He wanted to shake Alex up and down for a good split minute then shout: “Baby, what’s wrong?! With you, with us… Please, talk. Talk to me, yea?” But he would probably only ever get to say _‘baby’_ then be kissed into oblivion and pinned to the mattress in record time.  
That was the routine now. A thread of delicious highs and stone-cold lows that sent Miles’ feelings spiraling and left his mind torn, full of doubts and bereft of certainties of any sort but one: he had let himself get too attached to Alex.  
And the tearing off was going to be only half the problem. The subsequent loneliness, that he couldn’t picture without tears welling up in his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that was me pouring a bag of feels into the mix hehe. I just wanted to give their relationship a proper background so you can empathise more with the characters and, well, really feel the upcoming drama. You're welcome:) And thank you guys once again for all the positive feedback, it's always a really nice incentive to keep writing more:D!!!!!
> 
> [ where it all began: tumblr ](http://calmlikemilex.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought I could do without proofreading and then BOOM I've just realised I've typed Jaime twice so far- instead of Jamie god guys please kill me already:)  
> I'm:)  
> not:)  
> even:)  
> kidding:)  
> :)  
> *hides in shame*

_Tense_

Alex lifted Alexa up one, two, three times but it wasn’t gracious. He felt constricted by Jamie’s piercing stare and the current of orders coming out from his mouth. The very one reason he wasn’t much liked in the group was that he was seldom corrected by the authoritarian coach and that naturally arose suspicions abroad in the group of dancers. Today, however, it seemed he was in for a chorus of derisive laughs and roaring indications that only helped to add all the more stress to his already strained body. Alexa was the reason Alex was able to pull through the afternoon. Her reassuring comments, pats in his shoulders and murmured advices were the miraculous sweet oxygen that saved him from drowning in that ocean of humiliation. However, her attempts to coax him into staying through the stretching bit were fruitless. Truth is, he had never skipped it, Alex, always being all too conscious about the dangers of just letting the body drastically cool off. But today was the exceptions’ day and so, first chance he got, he ran away hurriedly, ignoring Jamie’s sharp call of his name.

He did take a very hot shower, hoping his resented muscles would melt a little and gave such dreadful day a turn. Luck wasn’t on his side though and, on his way out of the building, Alex started to feel the hideous cramps consolidating in his legs and making the simple task of walking a torture. A taxi ride was beyond discussion at that point but finding one was going to be the real problem. Traffic in New York was a chaos on weekdays and finding an empty cab almost equalled winning the lottery. Sighing at the depressing perspective, Alex sit on the green fields surrounding his workplace and snatched his cigarettes out of the fishnet pocket of his worn-out bag. Lighting it, he smoked his temporal misery away and soon enough the bag became a pillow, his overcoat a duvet and he was asleep the moment the butt was crushed down on the ground.

\-------

Jamie felt bad.  
What had seemed to be an odd little encounter with Alex in the morning turned now into a big question mark when the rehearsal hours came and he watched him dance. It was painful to watch and, mostly, anger- inducing. Yes, Jamie first got mad at the constant imperfections and reprehended the boy aloud but, as he saw the hours pass without the lad improving even a bit and the animosity rising among the male group, he shut up and began worrying. What if Alex wanted to talk about something serious in the morning? Was he sick? Injured? Going through some major problem? Jamie favoured this last option the most, given that at simple sight Alex looked perfectly normal and healthy.  
He couldn’t know for certain, however, because Alex fled before the shift was over. Jamie couldn’t remember ever seeing him miss a class and so the concern about his dearest dancer settled in him and adopted the form of a whirlpool deep in his stomach.

The night shift was but a haze. All Jamie wanted was to get home and lay on bed. Cool out. The more he saw the dancers move about the more he thought of Alex and the fear of puking soon became a threat. He had to look away, anywhere but the rushing feet. He couldn’t imagine Alex, one of the finest dancers he’d ever seen, suffering the same fate as him.

It would be the share of doom his general despair was missing to be complete.

He certainly wouldn’t get over it.

And he…

His thoughts were interrupted when spotting a very well-known frame laying supine on the fresh cut grass.

_Alex?!_

Jamie sprinted to the solitary body and confirmed his guess. It was Alex indeed, the blond quickly recognised the same clothes that had held him spellbound that morning and his heart sunk immediately.

_God, How long has he been here?_

_Why?_

Under the cold lights of the reflectors, his hair looked as opaque and frowsy as a coconut outer shell, and his face wasn’t more pale than colourless. Indeed, it was cold outside and the wind blew softly in that relentless fashion, the one that pierces through your skin, creeps into your bones if you give it the chance.

“Alex!” Jamie combed Alex’s hair in hopes of bringing him back to senses in the least startling manner. “It’s me, Jamie.”  
  
Alex blinked slowly, peering through those sexy heavy lids so characteristic of him and smiled, childishly, those catlike teeth glowing like little untouched pearls. “Nice, I fell asleep, huh?” He yawned and sit up, rubbing his eyes with anxious fists. “Fuck, it’s night already?! What… what are you doing here, Cook?”

“I work till midnight”

“Oh, I didn’t know. Well, um…thank you, I guess. I should…” He was interrupted by his own shrill gasp as he tried to stand up. Falling dead-weight over Jamie was Alex’s reminder of the state of his legs and body were in: heavy stones. Muttering an awkward apology he rolled onto the grass again and buried his face in his hands.

A shitty day wasn’t enough it seemed.  
  
‘Cramps’ Jamie thought though new questions kept popping up in his overactive brain. Questions that he may have uttered if it wasn’t for Alex’s sharp cry shooting his senses to full-attention.

“I just wanna go home but me legs…” Alex sighed

Jamie waited for him to finish the sentence but on seeing he wouldn’t, spoke up.

“I’ll ride you, t’s okay”

“Will you?” Alex gaped at Jamie, eyes wide and dark. “I…I live only ten blocks away”  
  
“Aye, don’t worry”

“Well thank you” Alex whispered as he wiped off some fresh tears on the back of his cuff.  
Jamie caressed Alex’s hard thigh affectionately and smiled as he blushed.

“Hurts?”

“Like a bitch” The long-haired boy confessed in a breath.

“Learnt the ‘no skippin’ class’ lesson, I guess?” Jamie taunted and gripped at the tense flesh, a bit of venom lingering in his voice. As much as he loved Alex, he couldn’t stand people leaving mid-class, and even less people airily doing so.

“Mmhm”

“What was tha’ laa? Couldn’t ‘ear ya” Jamie dig his short nails on the throbbing veins.

A suspire followed by a gulp and an averting of eyes was all the answer he got and Jamie nodded at himself in approval. “Good,” He concluded, easing off the pressure on Alex’s leg.

“I’ll go get the car. Wait for me yea?”

“Sure”

\---------------

At 7pm he was uneasy, at 8pm a bit worried.

At 9pm real concern took hold of him and from then on it was consuming and lasting preoccupation.

Desperate, Miles made dozens of phone calls and sent even more messages to an non-replying Alex. What got on Miles’ nerves the most was that he wasn’t being directed to voicemail directly. There were several beep tones which could only mean Alex wasn’t picking up an that was downright weird. Alex either answered or ignored your call right away- if he wasn’t in the mood to speak that is.

Miles called the academy and got the information that Alex had seen leaving the building at 17 pm- that is, before his shift actually ended. Something he wasn’t keen on doing, Miles knew. He only recalls him leaving early his practice once when his dad called to tell him his mum was being hospitalised. He remembers all too vividly the night flight with Alex climbing onto him and practically drenching his shirt with tears. Tears that now seemed to come back to haunt Miles, burning on his chest they were, and mixing with the ones that now were escaping him.

00:35 –Miles was staring the ticking clock helplessly when relief washed over him. The sound of a key being twisted in the hole shook Miles’ body from head to toe and he run to get the door open himself.

“Alex!” He shouted and, sure enough, his boyfriend stood there a grim look on his face, and an even darker aura. Ignoring it all, Miles embraced him in a tight hug and started to voice one question after the other and it wasn’t until he was forcefully pulled back that he shut up.

“I fell asleep on the fields, for god’s sake! What’s the goddamn problem? M’ was knackered, ‘kay?”

“I was worried, Alex. I thought…”

“No, let me speak, Miles.” Alex shook his head and walked in, hanging his overcoat on the clothes rack before throwing his bag on the sofa and facing his boyfriend again.

“I’ve got to go back in a few hours. And me body is a rock, ‘kay? I haven’t had a good day and the last thing I need is to be kept awake by your aimless babbling. You’ve got too much free time lately, that’s the problem Miles. Always after me you are, what I’m doing, where I am, booking stupid lengthy dinners at faraway restaurants. _I haven’t got the time_. Can ye get that through your thick skull please?! I’m busy as hell, I really can’t be into every stupid detail like you. M’ can’t be explaining every single thing that occurs to me throughout the day. I’ve gotta go rest now. You do what you please, just don’t fooking bother me, aye? ” Alex concluded with an ironic and forced smile as he wandered off to the bedroom.

Frozen in that spot he got pushed to behind the door, there stood Miles. He couldn’t process what was going on inside him. He was strangely relieved. Not pissed, disappointed or melancholic. In fact, he was beaming: Alex was okay. That was all that mattered to him now; it was almost like his brain had deleted the scene from just seconds ago.

Resolute, Miles tiptoed his way into the bedroom and retrieved a blanket from the tall wardrobe. He stole a glance at Alex just to make sure it was all real. And it was. Laying on his front, his boyfriend was already breathing in slowly and calmly, surely dozing off. Miles bit his lip and resisted the urge to join him.

_Better give him space._

Back in the living room Miles laid on the sofa and wrapped himself in the soft cotton fabric. Smile on his face, he turned the tv on and muted it.

_Lest he disburbs Alex._

**Author's Note:**

> [ where it all began: tumblr](http://calmlikemilex.tumblr.com/%22url%22)


End file.
